


TommyInnit The Healer

by sushisoot



Series: sleepy bois inc [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crack Treated Seriously, Dadza, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Sad, Sleepy Bois Inc-centric, Swearing, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) brings out the big bro in everyone, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Violence, and uh, good for him, i also love dadza, it will make sense if you read the story, sbi, sbi - freeform, this whole fic is an excuse to write big bro dream, tommyinnit is powerless, tommyinnit the healer, you cant judge me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-22 08:29:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30035889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sushisoot/pseuds/sushisoot
Summary: Tommy is powerless.But he has a gift.And it’s what brings everyone together.
Relationships: Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: sleepy bois inc [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209539
Comments: 35
Kudos: 309





	1. the black feather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ricc1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricc1/gifts).



> this fic is highly inspired by [eneli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eneli/pseuds/eneli) !!

Tommy sneezes.  
  
  
He groans and glares at his hands as he hastily wipes snot away from his face—if anyone else witnessed this, they'd laugh with how stupid he looks glaring at his hand as if it had stabbed him. Or maybe he's just laughably lonely; he can't even have someone to insult or chase with a _snotty_ hand.  
  


His head hurt.  
  


It's been too cold lately. He doesn't know why. Maybe it's the universe cursing him, telling him that he had stolen from that baker too much and he should leave the poor woman and her bread alone. It's not like Tommy could help it—he's hungry and he _will_ take _any_ food no matter what it takes.  
  
  
But it's been too cold for him to run up to the baker and hurry away like a caught red-handed raccoon, let alone _walk_ . He’s hungry. His stomach growls. His glare shifts from his hand to his stomach.  
  
  
He sneezes again, this time followed by an exasperated groan.  
  
  
So he stayed under the shade and snowfall wrapped in a thin and small fabric that barely covered his body, giving warmth to his arms—it's better than nothing, though, so Tommy stood still, and let himself slip to dreamless slumber.  
  
  
He stayed like that for three days.  
  
  
He doesn't know how he survived. He ate a sweet berry or two and drank water from his half-full, half-empty water bottle and slept the whole time, like an animal hibernating. Maybe he _is_ an animal hibernating. Tommy hums happily in this discovery.  
  
  
He’s hungry. So, so tired. And also really fucking sleepy. ( Not the best combination for big man Tommy. )  
  
  
He flinches away from the small bonfire as he hears the leaves above him ruffle harshly, alarming him. Tommy blinks as a figure appears in his blurry vision.  
  
  
He looks up and _melts_ into the sudden warmth. He then realized that there's a person in front of him, staring at him with concern, and the warmth is from a wing wrapped protectively around his figure.

_Huh_ , Tommy thought. And he wondered how long it would take before he wakes up.  
  
  
  
He falls asleep.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Tommy wakes up all alone.  
  
  
But when was he never alone?  
  
  
Tommy sighs, body trembling as he pulls himself up, feet stubbornly planted on the ground.  
  
  
He shivers violently again, seeing his fingertips almost blue from the cold. He sighs, rubbing his hands together and wincing from the painful burn it brings—but it’s a burn and burns are warmth nonetheless and he sighs in relief after, shoulders slumping.  
  
  
Something dark catches his attention from the corner of his eyes and he shuffles closer, frowning as he sees …   
  
  
A black feather?  
  
  
Scrunching his nose, he looks up at the bright, blue sky ( not without cursing from the brightness of it all ) and sees no sign of any birds. Only a sea of blue with white clouds lapping up at it. ( It isn’t even raining but it’s still so _fucking_ cold, holy shit. If Tommy had powers it would be to have the cold never bother him anyway . )  
  
  
His eyes go back to the black feather, soft and tempting to touch under the bright sun.  
  
  
 _Strange_ , he thinks as he picks the feather up and shoves it in his pocket, not thinking much about it.  
  
  
Usually, with these things as he’s heard from the old ladies in the villages, he would see angel numbers next; all the signs that mean something good will happen to him. He doesn’t remember if the color was important but he mentally thanks whichever angel decided to shed while he was snoring and drooling in his sleep for a stroke of supposed luck for all eternity.  
  
  
If that luck isn’t a large feast with him— _and only him_ —as the guest then he doesn’t want it.  
  
  
He has standards, thank you.  
  
He decides to go visit the main village as he daydreams about the said feast. He can imagine steak, pork chops, muttons, and—oh! He will make them get him a cake, a big one that will measure half of his body. ( He’s really, really tall, by the way. ) The cake will be delicious and Tommy can eat it for ages—  
  
  
“You’re drooling.”  
  
  
Tommy flinches, turning to throw an accusatory glare at the voice. He blinks, seeing the boy with the loose, green buttoned-up shirt and wide, curious eyes.  
  
  
Oh, it’s _just_ him.  
  
  
Tommy scowls in realization.  
 _  
_ _  
_ _Oh_ , it’s _him_ .  
  
  
The boy bounds closer, a couple of bees trailing after him. Stupid people with stupid powers, especially this one with the bees. No need to show off on Tommy’s powerless face.  
  
  
“What were you thinking about?” Bee boy asks, tilting his head.  
  
  
“Ways to kill your stupid bees,” Tommy responds easily.  
  
  
Bee boy gasps, stumbling away with his bees following after. If Tommy had a magnifying glass, he’s sure the bees are mimicking his face, mouth agape in fear. Tommy laughs.  
  
  
“Leave my bees alone,” he says firmly, placing his hands on his hips. The bees hide behind his fluff of hair. Tommy wonders how he goes to sleep with those things.  
  
  
Tommy stares down at him. “Only if you leave me and my thoughts alone.”  
  
  
“Why? Were you thinking about something bad?” Bee boy asks innocently and Tommy wants to shove his face away but, unfortunately for everyone, he isn’t in the mood for some bees stinging his hands. “You still have drool on your face, by the way.”  
  
  
“Shut the fuck up,” Tommy says and wipes the drool away.  
  
  
Bee boy smiles. “Are you hungry?”  
  
  
“I’m none of your business,” Tommy says.  
  
  
“Nice to meet you, I’m Tubbo!”  
  
  
“Fuck you.” And Tommy leaves it at that, ignoring how Bee boy is waving at him in goodbye.

Tommy hopes he will never see him again.

He bounds over to the nearest stop, a bakery! But he doesn't like acting dumb so he will bluntly say—ah, the bakery he always steals at! How lovely. It's been a while, it's grown up so much. Tommy wipes a tear away.

He enters the bakery with a sniffle ( definitely not from the cold, but from how much he’s missed this place! ), eyes darting from shelf to shelf, already thinking about what he can steal. There’s a cake on display on the right shelf. Tommy grins.

From the counter, there's a young woman Tommy thinks is not the smartest. She has seen Tommy countless times, seen him walk away without buying anything every time, yet she still greets him with a wide smile every time he enters.  
  
  
She is not the smartest but it’s alright because TommyInnit will teach her the way of life—  
  
  
The hard way.  
  
  
With a grin, Tommy walks closer. “Hello.”  
  
  
She smiles, pink hair sticking out. Tommy wonders why would someone ever want to dye their hair that isn’t blond like his. “Hi.”  
  
  
Tommy wonders how long it’ll be until she’s distracted. The last time he stole from her, there was another customer and she was too busy tending to the man to watch Tommy so he was able to leave. Unfortunately for him, he came alone to this bakery.  
  
  
He has to be sneaky, then.  
  
  
“I want the uh … bread behind you,” Tommy says and points at a random spot behind her.  
  
  
She tilts her head, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah?”  
  
  
Tommy nods confidently. “Mhm. You should, uh, go … y’know, check it.”  
  
  
She grins and instead places her hand underneath the counter, revealing a plate full of fried eggs, sausages, and fried bread. “My name’s Niki, by the way.”  
  
  
Tommy stares at the food with a frown, a typical English breakfast on her hands. “Yeah, that’s nice to know,” he answers distractedly.  
  
  
“What’s your name?” Niki asks, pulling up a chair and pushing it near him.   
  
  
“Um, listen, lady, I just want the bread—”  
  
  
Niki throws him a stern glare. Tommy freezes. She’s a very _scary_ lady. She gives a pointed look at the stool beside him and Tommy hastily obliges and sits down. Niki’s face is split into a smile again. “I asked what’s your name. It’s only polite to answer”  
  
  
But Tommy is never polite!  
  
  
Niki stares at him with expectant eyes.  
  
  
He hesitates. “Tommy.”  
  
  
“Eat, Tommy,” she tells him.  
  
  
Tommy eats, carefully grabbing the fork wrapped in a tissue beside the plate and digs in. He thinks he hasn’t ever had a better breakfast before until now. Tommy starts eating faster. Niki smiles softly.  
  
  
Tommy wonders if the food has poison and he’s being trapped in it by this nice-looking lady. _It’s always the one who looks the kindest_ , Tommy thinks suspiciously with narrowed eyes as he bites down on the fried bread.  
  
  
Niki just smiles back brightly.  
  
  
Tommy almost hisses back at her.   
  
  
But they soon fall into peaceful silence. Niki humming to herself as she wipes the tables and Tommy hurriedly eating everything put on his plate because he thinks Niki would swipe it away from him or something and all of this is a trap to lull Tommy in a false sense of security before she reveals herself to be Bee boy’s mother and curse him for eternity for cussing his son out. Or something.  
  
  
Tommy thinks that would be a lame way to die as he eats the last piece of the bread.  
  
  
“Do you have a gift, too, or are you just like me?” Niki asks out of the blue, startling Tommy a little.  
  
  
He frowns. He’s never been asked that before.  
  
  
( Then again, he’s never really been one to talk to anyone. It wasn’t that Tommy was shy, it was more like they were too scared to approach him because he’s too cool and awesome and powerful and _cool_ . )  
  
  
“A gift? You mean you don’t have one?” Tommy asks.  
  
  
“Mine is nothing special,” Niki giggles and Tommy is even more confused. “I can lift one object that weighs lighter than me with my mind. It helps with cooking but not save the world.” She sighs wistfully, brushing back a stray piece of hair. She turns to Tommy who is staring at his empty plate with a frown, disappointment on his young features.  
  
  
She notices the feather sticking out of his pocket and gasps. Tommy’s eyes follow her gaze and realize she saw the black feather. “Is that—?”  
  
  
“A feather? Yeah. I found it on the ground and I thought it might be good luck.”  
  
  
“No, silly” Niki snorts softly. “I’m asking if that’s Philza’s feather.”  
  
  
Tommy frowns at the familiar name. He’s heard it thrown around while he was roaming the village, something about being one of the Big Three. “ _Who_ ?”  
  
  
“Philza!” Niki says cheerfully, wonder in her eyes. The sausage is long forgotten on Tommy’s plate and he knows that, but he doesn’t feel like eating anymore, too curious. “One of our three saviors. The eldest of the trio, the winged guardian. My mom has told me about his dark wings and if ever you see a black feather near you it means he flew by!”   
  
  
She laughs, running a hand through her pink locks. “But that’s never happened to me. And that’s probably from a dark-winged bird and I’m overthinking this. Even still, it’s a good thing you kept it.”  
  
  
Tommy hums thoughtfully.  
  
  
“What’s yours?” Niki asks again.  
  
  
Tommy scowls at his hands. His useless, useless hands. Then he sighs. He doesn’t have cool telepathic powers like Niki, or queen-bee type of shit like Tubbo, not even cool wings like Philza that has made stories all around the village. He’s ... “Nothing.”  
  
  
He doesn’t know why Niki looks confused. “Nothing? What do you—”  
  
  
“Nothing. I don’t have any powers,” he repeats. He wishes he didn’t look up to see horror and realization dawn on Niki’s eyes. His heart squeezes in his chest.  
  
  
Tommy feels looked down upon, suddenly.  
  
  
“I need to go,” he says, his words rushed, standing up—he doesn’t feel like meeting Niki’s eyes. “Thank you for the food.”  
  
  
Niki straightens, panic in her movements. “Tommy, _no_ , wait—”  
  
  
He turns away and storms away at the same time three people enter the bakery, too busy bickering with each other to notice him.  
  
  
“I’m telling you, he was under a tree and you idiots were so impatient I couldn’t wait until he woke up and took him in!”  
  
  
“You should’ve taken him in while he was sleeping, then! It was an emergency!”  
  
  
“And _freak_ him out? That’s kidnapping!”  
  
  
“Go back if you care _so_ much, then. Don't come back crawling to us when he hates us and scare him away even more.”   
  
  
Tommy ignores them and snatches the cake from the shelf.   
  
  
“Hey, Niki, sorry about that.” A sigh. “Any news?”   
  
  
Tommy feels her eyes on him. “He’s literally—”   
  
  
The bell chimes.   
  
  
“—right there…”   
  
  
  
But Tommy is long gone.


	2. the red cape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy meets a stranger and is given a red cape in return.
> 
> Tommy doesn't know what to feel about this.

Tommy sneezes. Again.

He had almost forgotten he had a cold in the first place. The bakery was warm; his body didn't shiver every time he took a step, and his teeth didn't chatter in each word he uttered out—but all of that is gone now, and he’s left with a chilling breeze that tickled his bones and bit on his lip.

He's thinking.

Not fucked up shit this time, don't worry.

But he _thinks_. He thinks about the time his parents kicked him out, shouts ringing in his ears. He thinks about his sister controlling fire with her hands, his parents clapping their hands and grinning as they hug and spin her around while he stares at them from his bedroom, through the crack of the door. He thinks about his useless hands and thinks he starts to piece it all together...

But, no, of course, that's not the case! Why would you ever want to kick out _the_ TommyInnit? You'd be dumb to think that, surely!

  
Everyone loves him. He’s cool and awesome and cool and so, _so_ powerful and cunning and witty and handsome and—

Powerless.

He falters.

If Tommy had powers, he would go invisible, hide away from the world and steal everything he can get his hands on—food, cool clothes that would make him look more handsome, a castle ( or mansion if he’s feeling generous and humble because he is cool and generous and humble ) and no one can do anything about it. If Tommy had powers, he would get wings, fly across the blue ocean they call the sky with a grin stretched across his face, and save cats from trees.

If Tommy had powers, he would want fire ones.  
  
So he would stop fucking freezing.

He doesn't have a cold. ( At least, he doesn't think he does. ) But it doesn't matter, he can survive with a numb and aching body—he's done it before and he can easily do it again.  
  
Tommy sits under the shade of the tree, eating the small cake he had stolen from Niki with a fork, chattering teeth chewing on the chocolate cake. Eating cold foods while being cold is not ideal, as the great, o wise Tommy says.  
  
  
“Mind sharin’ that?”

Tommy almost drops his fork.  
  
He looks up and sees a figure resting on a sturdy branch of the tree Tommy is under, legs swinging back and forth mindlessly. The figure looks down on him and Tommy feels a little small.  
  
  
Tommy blinks, ignoring the fact that he came from nowhere. In front of him, is a guy he thinks is very familiar—he might’ve seen him from the village, or this whole country, or maybe one of the guards who chased him down for theft multiple times ( he's befriended one of them, he was named Ran with a boo or something ); either way, he is a threat to Tommy.   
  
A red cape reaching the ground sprawled majestically as if he spreads it out like wings tucked behind him; a sword sheathed on his hip, taunting at anyone whose eyes are to land upon it; a mask oddly resembling a face of a pig, with its tusks and bright pink color that's certainly demanding of attention and power.  
  
  
 _He looks cool_ , Tommy thinks reverently. But instead, he says: “What the fuck?"  
  
  
He smiles where the mask doesn't cover and hops down with ease. His knees don't even buckle; instead, he falls with practiced grace—so much so that Tommy puffs his chest just to show he is definitely _not_ intimidated. “Call me Techno.”  
  
  
“I'd call the _guards_ , actually,” Tommy quips, munching on his cake once again. "How do you feel about a prison sentence for disturbing a harmless minor, big man?"  
  
  
Techno huffs in amusement, scratching the back of his head. “This is pretty awkward, then.”  
  
  
“Why?”  
  
  
“Do you _really_ not know me?”  
  
  
Tommy makes a face. “Am I supposed to?”  
  
  
Techno sits down on the spot beside him. Tommy almost cries because his cape is spread out on the ground flawlessly—he is convinced his cape is a paid actor. “I suppose not. Just surprising, s’all.”  
  
  
“You must be very famous, then,” Tommy concludes as he takes another bite, muffled by the cake.  
  
He doesn't care if the man in front of him is actually the ruler of the entire planet—he is disturbing Tommy's peace when Tommy hasn't done anything to him ( _or has he? He has too many crimes to count and Tommy is sure he can count up to more than fifty_ ) therefore in Tommy's eyes he is a wrongen and an _annoying_ one.  
  
  
“I _also_ am very hungry,” Techno says, leaning to grab the fork lying on the cake’s plate. Tommy gasps as Techno takes a bite.  
  
  
 _Without his permission!  
_   
  
“You disgust me,” Tommy says with a scowl while Techno chews happily with his food. He watches as Techno hums and takes another scoop.

He hates wrongens.  
  
Tommy hates him.  
  
He wishes him gone this instant.  
  
  
“How long are you gonna stay here?” Tommy asks cautiously, praying that Techno will say five seconds in his head.  
  
  
“Why?” A grin creeps up Techno’s face. “Do you want me to _stay_ ?”  
  
  
Tommy scrunches his nose in revulsion as if Techno had burnt him. “Of course _not_ ! I’m asking so I know when I should start running away.”  
  
  
Techno shrugs, taking another bite. “You can’t run away.”  
  
  
“And why _not_ ?”  
  
  
“I won’t let you,” he replies simply. Tommy resists the urge to punch his face. He loathes him.  
  
  
Tommy places his fork down on the plate, staring at Techno warily. “And what makes you think that?” He pushes.  
  
  
“I am very aware of my capabilities.”  
  
  
" _What_ capabilities? Annoying children?"   
  
  
Techno sighs and shifts. Something shifts in the air as Tommy realizes: oh shit, he’s serious. He unsheathes his sword, revealing its pointed tip and sharp edges glinting against the sunset's faint glare—Tommy thinks that there's a bloodstain on the tip, barely washed away as if its purpose is to intimidate. It's working. Tommy is sure he can cut his finger off by touching it.  
  
  
"I have two of these but I left the other one back at the base," Techno adds nonchalantly.   
  
  
  
“You’re fucking _crazy_ !” Tommy cries out, backing away.  
  
  
“You asked for it,” Techno says, smiling.  
  
  
“Aren’t you going home to your friends?”  
  
  
“Friends?” Techno repeats incredulously. “I’d hardly call them allies. I'll be staying with you for as long as I like.” 

It was official. Tommy hates Techno.

* * *

( Unfortunately ) true to his word, Techno stays next to him until the sun is drowned by the midnight sea of the sky and the moon takes his reign.

Tommy sneezes.

Techno looks at him strangely.

Tommy sneezes again, face flushing red in embarrassment. But the warmth on his cheeks isn't enough to warm _him_ . He doesn’t know why it’s extra cold tonight but it _is_ and it’s annoying.

"You're cold," Techno points out.

Tommy sniffles, hugging himself. "No shit."

He coughs and shudders when a breeze brushes his cheeks, not like a paintbrush to a canvas softly stroking, but a sting like a bee ( one of Tubbo’s bees, Tommy would imagine ). Techno looks at him, unsure. He moves closer and Tommy instantly reacts, alarms going off in his brain instinctively, arm raised to shield himself away from Techno.

Techno frowns. Tommy scowls.

"I am not a hugger," Tommy huffs, still having his arms up protectively around himself.

Techno stays silent for a moment, frowning at the ground as Tommy's teeth continue to chatter and as he shivers violently.

The masked man looks up and moves again, startling Tommy. But Tommy falters in confusion when he sees Techno remove his cape and wrap it around Tommy's shoulder instead, leaning back after he’s done and looking away.

Tommy relaxes without meaning to, basking in the comforting heat that spread to his body all the way to his toes as he curled it in closer to where the cape would cover. Time passes and Tommy thinks he hasn’t felt this comfortable before.

It's quiet.

Tommy hates the quiet. It's too loud

But before you say, _Tommy, you silly, silly boy! How can the silence be so noisy?_

Tommy will respond— _not with a punch to the face, thankfully_ —and say that silence is the only kind of noise you can't get rid of—you can't cover your ears and drown yourself in nonsensical thoughts, you can't force your head between your folded pillow and fall asleep to muffled chattering; noise comes from someone else, silence comes from yourself.

He hates how the deafening silence reminds him back at his home; the calm before the storm before his father would yell at him or his mother would threaten to kick him out ( looking back, he should've not felt so scared—they were bound to kick him out anyway ).

"I can hear your thoughts from here."

Tommy flinches. He thought Techno was asleep. He chooses not to respond, his thoughts are _none_ of Techno's business. He is nothing but a stranger who chose to lend him a cape ( which Tommy plans on never returning, by the way ) out of kindness ( _that’s stupid_ , Tommy thinks, _now you have one less cape in your closet_ ) and didn’t turn Tommy in for stealing cake ( because he also ate it ).  
  
  
“You know, I can take you back to my base,” Techno offers. He’s hesitant, Tommy notes.  
  


  
Tommy scowls. “I will not be going anywhere.”  
  
  
  
Techno shrugs. “It was worth a shot. You’ll come to us, eventually.”  
  
  
  
That definitely wasn’t threatening.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  
When Tommy wakes up, he’s all alone.  
  
  
Again.  
  
  
But this time, he has a cool cape that swallowed his figure and a cool black feather on his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so much for all the support this has gotten omg WHAT it means a lot i was so nervous to make this !!  
> also update: sorry if updates are slow :))

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos make me :D <33


End file.
